I love Bo French (my post this week for Southeast Texas Impact Initiative).

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My post this week for Southeast Texas Impact Initiative.

I love Bo French!

Yes, I actually did write that. And it’s true. I am thankful for Bo French.

Here’s the reason why. His idiotic and infamously fetid racist rants on social media have forced the Republican Party to own up to its racism problem. Racism and race-driven strategies and attitudes have become so pervasive and common in the GOP that now, even politicians like John Cornyn, no progressive flower, feel compelled to condemn overt racism.

There are myriad examples of how it’s become increasingly accepted in Republican circles that you can make racist statements, even wildly mendacious proclamations, with no serious consequences. On the contrary, “welcome to the party” is what most Republicans seem to be saying. Maybe we’re still in the wink-wink, if-you-know-you-know phase of this absorbing trend in conservative circles. But with Bo French, it feels like we’ve finally reached a threshold where decency might actually prevail — for a change.

Here’s a social media post from Paul Ingrassia, who currently serves as a U.S. government attorney: “I do have a Nazi streak in me from time to time, I will admit it.”

Here’s a text he sent to fellow Republican operatives: “We need competent white men in positions of leadership. The founding fathers were wrong that all men are created equal… We need to reject that part of our heritage.”

Ron DeSantis fired his aide Nate Hochman after the latter posted an image of the Florida politician with a bold Nazi symbol as backdrop. Hochman is currently writing speeches for Secretary of State Marco Rubio.

In January of this year, the U.S. Department of Labor posted a Nazi slogan on its social media: “One Homeland. One People. One Heritage,” an echo of the German “Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Führer” (“one people, one realm, one leader”). “Remember who you are, American,” wrote the government employee who shared the video that included the authoritarian motto.

(Thank you to Times opinion writer Jamelle Bouie and the Nation for the above examples of blatant racism expressed by government workers.)

And let’s not forget Elon Musk, the world’s favorite antisemite (he recently took over Mel Gibson’s role as the world’s most loved Jew hater). When a user posted that Jews advance “dialectical hatred against whites,” Musk responded by writing: “You have said the actual truth.” And that’s just one of the overtly racist posts he’s shared on X, the platform he owns and controls.

As Bouie asked plaintively, why does Musk get a pass? Why do any of them get a pass, for that matter?

It’s because of the GOP’s deep-seated racism. Remember the infamous 1981 quote from prolific Republican strategist Lee Atwater (who later repented for the racist tactics his office used to help get Ronald Reagan elected): “Y’all don’t quote me on this. You start out in 1954 by saying, ‘n—– n—–, n—–.’ By 1968, you can’t say ‘n—–’ — that hurts you. Backfires. So, you say stuff like forced busing, states’ rights and all that stuff.”

I’m not making this up. Just Google it.

Atwater was explaining how he had modified and improved Nixon’s shameful “Southern Strategy,” a race-driven approach to politics that helped to get Nixon elected.

Bo French (who are bigger threat to America, he asked on social media, Muslims or Jews?) is forcing GOP leaders to take sides in the race-baiting race to the bottom. Whether this will help them get elected is another question. But at least, even the GOP is learning to call a fig a fig.

Thanks for reading my post this week for Southeast Texas Impact Initiative (click here to read and support), a grassroots group advocating for progressive issues in one of the most conservative corners of our country. Please consider becoming a paid subscriber.

Georgia needs your help! Hear her perform “Swan Lake” this Sunday!

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As the proud parents of a Kinder High School for the Performing and Visual Arts student, Tracie and I invite you to support Georgia’s school.

This Sunday 9/27, she will be performing in the HSPVA Music Fest, 12:30-6 p.m. Purchase tickets by clicking here.

The orchestra will take a stage at 3 p.m. But that’s just one of the gazillion performances that will be happening that day: each and every one of HSPVA’s roughly 70 students will be performing or showing artwork. This includes band, jazz, orchestra, chamber, soloists, theater, art installations… We can’t wait and we hope to see you there!

Like high school students across the U.S., Georgia is raising money for her school. Not only do ticket proceeds go to our school’s $100k goal. But you can also donate directly in Georgia’s name.

Please consider supporting her. She’s working so hard these days as she’s adjusting to academic life at one of the best public schools in the nation. We are so proud of her.

Please join us on Sunday. We’ll be there all day. And please do consider buying tickets and/or donating to Georgia’s page.

I can’t wait to hear them perform. Georgia loves the orchestra program and there’s no doubt that they are going to steal the show!

See you on Sunday! Thanks for supporting our growing girl.

Mom, happy birthday. It’s been less than a year that you left us.

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Mom, today is your birthday. Your memory is 93 years old. It’s been less than a year since you left us. That anniversary is also around the corner.

It’s been a rough year for me. I dearly miss our nearly daily calls and our visits with the girls in San Diego.

There were two things in life that you always said I was good at. One was cooking. You were a great cook and together we were gourmet partners in culinary crime, mostly through our often-epic restaurant-going. When you were still strong enough to visit Texas, you enjoyed the food I made us at the house and I would cook in your kitchen whenever I got the chance.

The other thing you said I was good at was parenting. You used to tell me that you loved seeing how much I love being a dad. Anyone who knows me knows that family is more important to me than anything else in the world. Joy never came easy to you, except when it came to the girls. You would really light up when we visited and you would tell me how impressed you were with “how well-behaved” they were.

I wish I could tell you about how Georgia stumbled academically during her early weeks at the High School for the Performing and Visual Arts. And how she’s now turned that all around and she’s back to where she needs to be with her grades. Every day when I pick her up, she tells me how much she loves the orchestra there. I’m so unbelievably proud of her and the person she is becoming.

I wish I could tell you how I almost fell out of my chair when Lila came home from shopping and showed us her new homecoming dress. It’s beautiful! I nearly picked up my phone to send a photo to the woman and family friend who took care of you. She would share (and also take delight in seeing) those photos. I wish I could tell you how hard she’s working on her big auditions coming up later this year.

I wish you could see how I’ve decorated my office with postcards you collected over your lifetime. How our walls are covered with freshly framed artwork from your collection (we love our Henry Millers!).

Mom, I just wish I could tell you happy birthday like I did ever since I was old enough to speak.

AI as Messiah.

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The Jewish Talmud is a 2,711-page commentary on rabbinic law. It was compiled by Jewish scholars in the 6th century C.E.

It includes a terrifying warning about the coming of the Messiah: “In the generation of the coming of the Son of David, disciples of the sages will be few in number, and as for the others, they will see sorrow and grief. Many troubles and evil laws will be made, each new evil quickly coming before the other has ended.”

A description of harrowing events follows. “There will be a great famine,” say the sages, “and men, women, children, the pious, and men of action will die, and the Torah [the Five Books of Moses] is forgotten by those who study it.”

That’s not the half of it, by the way.

Here’s the scariest part: “And the truth will be lacking… truth will become like so many flocks and walk away.”

In the ensuing discussion, one Rabbi reveals his trepidation. I eagerly await the Messiah, he says, but I don’t want to be around when the Messiah gets here (I’m paraphrasing).

It’s one of the great conundrums in the Judeo-Christian vision of the world: the arrival of the Messiah is a good thing (depending on your world view) but it will also bring about massive destruction and despair. Jews may want the Messiah to come (for the first time), and Christians may want the Messiah to come again, but the lead-up ain’t gonna be pretty.

It’s hard not to see the parallels between these Talmudic admonitions and the recent alarm about artificial intelligence.

Seemingly, we all want AI to come but we’re afraid of what’s taking shape in the meantime. Even more disconcerting is how the people who are making AI often talk about it in Messianic terms. They claim that it’s going to bring about a utopia where there will be abundance for all. Its superhuman capabilities will unleash our creativity in powerful and previously unimagined ways. Yet the people who are making it are also scared shitless about what could and is already going wrong.

It’s abundantly clear that the Trump administration’s chief concern is that the Chinese don’t “win” the AI “race.” The president’s laissez-faire attitude, greased up by the AI builders’ financial and moral support, reflects his zero-sum approach. If people get hurt along the way, so be it, at least in Trump’s view. (Plus, he’s more concerned right now with the renaming of the Kennedy Center than the annihilation of its theater-going public.)

As for the AI builders themselves, they’ve already written humanity off. Peter Thiel infamously hesitated when then Times journalist Ross Douthat asked him: “You would prefer the human race to endure, right?” Elon Musk wouldn’t be planning a vacation spot on Mars if he weren’t already convinced that climate change is inevitable. Hell, let’s build more data centers and speed the process up through focused environmental degradation and misspent but otherwise much-needed resources!

The only good news to emerge in recent weeks is that Republicans and Democrats have soured on data centers. It seems to be the one issue that unites both parties. And the bottom line is that politicians are taking note because the overwhelming majority of Americans oppose data centers (at least in their neighborhoods). Could this be the issue to bring the Left and Right together? It’s incredible to hear competing TV ads where Bernie Sanders and Greg Abbott are both warning us about the ills of AI.

Whether you trend left or right, now is the time to support politicians who will hold the tech oligarchs accountable.

Of course, if AI decides it no longer has any use for us, it won’t matter if we’re Republican or Democrat. To summon an ancient Jewish legend, the Golem may have seemed like an answer to the Jews’ problems. But once it was unleashed, it proved impossible to contain.

Thanks for reading my post today for Southeast Texas Impact Initiative, a grassroots group advocating for progressive issues in one of the most conservative corners of our country. Please consider becoming a paid subscriber.

Shanah tovah. Parzen family new year letter.

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Shanah tovah, everyone. Happy new year.

Like we do every year at our house, we celebrate the holiday by dipping apples in honey to remind us of our hopes for sweetness and joy in our year ahead.

Georgia is learning that academics at the school for the performing and visual arts is no walk in the park. But she’s about to finish her first month with her head held high. The upside is that her musicianship is becoming more finely tuned and honed with each passing day. She picks up her viola every day with gusto and fire.

Her gift to me is that I get to spend time with her driving her downtown every morning. We chat about everything under the sun.

Lila Jane is enjoying her “senior” year and her close-knit crew of friends at her middle school. She has been working so hard for her upcoming auditions (region orchestra and high school for the performing arts). It’s so beautiful to hear her play. Her teachers are confident that she is strong and on the right track. We are so proud of her.

She leaves the house impeccably dressed every day and her room is always neat and tidy. She’s been making smoothies for everyone.

Tillie, our wayward rescue, has finally begun to settle into her life with us. Lila is “her person” but she’s starting to open up with Tracie, Georgia, and me. Paco continues to live his life as the bravest, most fiercely loyal and super cuddly chihuahueño on the planet.

I know it’s old news at this point, but Tracie’s career continues to expand. She’s about to close her biggest transaction to date. Now that she’s more comfortable at work, she’s been taking more time out for me and the girls. That’s been so lovely. I can’t wait to post the love songs I’ve written for her this year.

This is my first new year without my mom. Her birthday and the anniversary of her death are around the corner. My father died this year as well. It’s been a rough time for me. But I have my family, my health, my activism, my writing, and my music. Poo, poo, poo… I have so much to be thankful for.

Happy new year. May yours be filled with health, joy, and light.

Brooklyn memories of 9/11.

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I was about to head to Manhattan from Park Slope, Brooklyn on the 2 train when I called my client in lower Manhattan to confirm our 9:30 a.m. meeting. I picked up my landline handset and called the office on Desbrosses St. (two blocks south of Canal) not long after the first plane hit, although I was completely unaware.

The second plane hadn’t hit yet. The man who answered the phone was frantic. There’s not going to be a meeting, he yelled into the phone. Haven’t you seen what’s happening here? He hung up the phone.

I didn’t have a TV at the time and my only sources for news were the NPR Realplayer channel and the Times. I turned on the radio and learned that the first tower had been struck.

A knock came at my door. It was my landlord. She and her husband lived in the floor above me in a Federal-period townhome. She asked me to come upstairs with her to watch NY1, the 24-hour news channel that was central to daily life in the city back then. She was extremely upset and I sat with her and consoled her. When she finally calmed down, I excused myself to go back to my apartment. All I could think about was calling my mother.

Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Judy picked up the phone around 7:30 a.m. her time.

Mom, something has happened in New York. You’re going to hear about it. But I’m okay. I just wanted you to know.

Thanks for letting me know, honey, she said and then hung up the phone. More than a day would pass before you could get through on the phone lines again.

We were all convinced that another attack was coming any moment. I don’t know that people understand that today. I stayed at home until the very end of the day. When I went up to 5th Ave. to see if any stores were open, the streets were empty. Suddenly, I noticed that singed pieces of paper were floating down on the street all around me. It felt like I was in a movie.

I didn’t return to the site of the tragedy until two decades later. I knew a lot of people who worked at Windows on the World because my band had a regular gig there. I had been spending a couple days a week at Desbrosses St., about a mile from the towers, and so I knew a lot of vendors and shopkeepers in lower Manhattan.

When I had to go downtown for work, I would avoid the site. But there was no ignoring the tide of “missing persons” notices that seamlessly covered the wrought-iron fence surrounding Trinity Church. To scan those faces was to share the grief of the missing’s loved ones.

Things were rough for me after 9/11. I had just launched my freelance career as a food and wine writer. All of a sudden, my nascent business ground to a halt. I ended up taking a job at a gallery on the Upper East Side. It was a huge setback for me and I almost left the city.

But I hung in there and things came back around for me. I was one of the lucky ones who didn’t get on that train. I would have arrived at the site just after the second plane hit.

G-d bless the families and memories of those who perished in the tragedy. G-d bless America.

The “responsibility of words” in times of wine industry crisis.

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My career in wine is all but over. A handful of industry friends stay in touch. But I no longer live or work in that world.

Despite my new outsider status as a wine lover and wine tourist, it would be next to impossible not to be aware of the Italy’s 2026 “shit harvest,” as some trade observers have called it. Between oppressive heat and unrelenting drought, many growers are facing an existential crisis, especially the small farmers.

With the current disastrous situation in mind, I found it all the more moving to read a post by one of those winemakers I still follow (she and I became friends over classical music not wine).

She had just read the “umpteenth” post describing the wine world in catastrophic terms.

“There’s drought. There’s hot weather, too,” she writes.

    The plants suffer and the show it. Denying this would be stupid.

    But between talking about a difficult situation and continuously fueling a sense of alarm, I believe there’s something important to consider: the weight and responsibility of words.

    My family has been growing grapes for generations. And despite this, I continue to think that don’t have the sufficient science to draw conclusions about phenomena so complex. I am surprised by the ease with which diagnosis and judgement are dispensed from all sides.

    I can’t help but wonder: what purpose does it serve?

    …

    Behind the scenes of a difficult harvest, there aren’t just numbers, forecasts, and analyses. There are farmers who work all year. And during the harvest months, they try to do the best they can with what they have.

    People don’t need to be told how hard it is. They already know.

Reading her words, I was reminded of why I and so many other people find the wine world so compelling. It puts us back in touch with the earth, the seasons, and our bodies’ often strained relation to the natural world. It can also be a window into the wisdom of the ancients. But most of all it humbles us: we realize that there are forces around us that we may never be able to explain. Maybe that’s the magic of it.

The “responsibility of words.” A notion to which we can aspire in wine and beyond. Thank you, Valentina.

Is Italy’s Fascist party coming back as right wing extremism continues to rise in EU with German election?

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During my early years as a student in Italy in the late 1980s, I would soak in the stories about war times told by my Italian friends’ parents and grandparents. I could see their faces in the characters of Neo-Realist movies shot in the years immediately following WWII. To me, they were superheroes. In my mind, they made the greatest sacrifices for their principles and morals when they refused to join the (historic) Fascist party. Many of them were partisans. Nearly all of those people are gone today.

My warm memories from those years make it all the more difficult to wrap my mind around what’s happening in Italy and Europe right now. In Germany, AfD, the extremist right-wing party previously shunned by mainstream politicians, is now positioned to govern an East German region. There are fears that the party’s rise is unstoppable at this point.

In my beloved Italy, a new extremist rightwing figure is on the rise: Vannacci, a former general who has essentially proposed that the historic Fascist party be reinstated. There’s even a chance that he will outflank the “post-Fascist” party established by premier Meloni. His policies align almost seamlessly with MAGA. His use of one of the Fascists’ notorious mottoes has become an Italian cultural flashpoint. When he says “me ne frego,” anglophone media has been translating it as “I don’t care.” In tone, attitude, and vibe (including historical vibe), it’s more akin to the MAGA motto “fuck your feelings.”

I’m doing a little bit of wine writing on the side these days as I focus on my writing and translation projects. But I still keep up with Italian politics and a few of my Italian friends from my years in wine. As Europe faces its most robust rightwing wave in a generation, Italian winemakers are dealing with one of the most challenging harvests in memory (remember the colossal EU heatwave this summer?).

I recently devoured one of the most moving pieces of wine writing I’ve ever read. It was by an Italian friend who’s facing tough times after a next-to impossible vintage. It’s like a metaphor for a burning Europe. Stay tuned: I’ll share an excerpted translation later this week.

Keep the faith!

Above: a plaque in Milan commemorating the death of a partisan at the hands of the Nazis.

Gov. Abbott’s “12 commandments,” stuffed down our kids’ throats. Weren’t 10 enough?

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There’s a hilarious scene depicting Moses on Mt. Sinai in Mel Brooks’ 1981 comedy film “History of the World, Part I.”

As Moses, played by Brooks, descends from the mountain, he’s holding three large tablets.

Moses bellows: “Hear me! Oh, hear me! All pay heed! The Lord, the Lord Jehovah, has given unto you these fifteen…”

He then stumbles and drops one of the tablets. It shatters when it hits the ground.

“Oy!,” he says to the Hebrews below, using a well-known Yiddish interjection. “Ten!,” he tells his people. “Ten commandments for all to obey!”

How the world might be different today if Moses had given us all 15!

Joking aside, many Gentiles will be surprised to learn that the “Ten Commandments” are just the opening decalogue of the five books of Moses (the Jews’ Torah). They are followed by 603 more commandments (mitzvot in Hebrew; the singular is mitzvah; a bar mitzvah or bat mitzvah is the son or daughter of the commandments, hence the rite of passage for 13-year-old Jewish kids).

Last year, Governor Abbott signed SB 10, detailing the mandatory display of the “Ten Commandments” in Texas public schools (uncanny that the bill was number 10!). Not only are teachers now compelled to display them (although legal challenges are still pending), but they are also required to use the officially Texas-sanctioned “Ten Commandments.” And yes, they must use Texas-sanctioned “Ten Commandments” posters that are provided by the state.

I was surprised — floored, actually — to discover that the agreed text of the “Ten Commandments” adopted by my state actually includes 12, yes, 12 commandments. And the strangest part of the arrangement is that those 12 commandments are introduced by the title “The 10 Commandments”…

Please click here to continue reading my post this week for Southeast Texas Impact Initiative. Please consider subscribing or donating to the group. It will play a key role in the run-up to the mid-term elections with local block walking and voter registration. Thank you for your support and solidarity.

Micheaux’s Southern Cuisine in Missouri City should be declared a national treasure.

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This is only the second installment of my Worth the Drive West (De tabernis que valent illam carratam ad occidente) lunch series featuring my favorite finds between Westbury (Meyerland) where we live, and Sugarland to our southwest (thus avoiding the media-saturated although always exciting food scene within Houston’s I-610 Loop).

But I feel like I’ve already reached a zenith with this one and it’s going to be hard to beat.

Micheaux’s Southern Cuisine would already be at the top of my southwest Houston restaurant lists for the superb cookery, with a loving focus on classic southern dishes. But it was the overall vibe of the place, on two separate visits, where the super pro and warmly polite staff gave you the sense that they love working there — and they love the soulful food the kitchen puts out.

I’m a little bummed that they discontinued the shrimp po’ boy but that won’t stop us from going back.

Tracie swooned when I brought her home some of their black-eyed peas a few weeks ago. And she inhaled the red beans I ferried back last week.

Roast chicken, braised ox tails, smothered pork chops, meatloaf were just some of the entrées on offer with the spectrum of classic sides (don’t miss the mac and cheese).

I believe the Micheaux family’s catering business is their focus. We’re definitely eyeing the spot for our next big activism event at the house.

I’ve seen the restaurant packed at lunch with a local crowd. Haven’t visited yet for dinner but they stay open until 8 p.m.

My Southwest Houston, I’m discovering, is a land of churches, immigrants, and wonderful restaurants that devotedly nourish the community. I’ve got my eye on a Vietnamese sandwich shop for my next post in the series.

Stay tuned and please make the trip out to Micheaux’s (it’s pretty fast on the Fort Bend Parkway). It’s worth the drive west!